


Pride and Paradox

by Alexandria (heartfullofelves)



Series: Torchwood Four [4]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 03, Angst, M/M, Time Travel, Unbury Your Gays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-07-11
Packaged: 2018-04-02 08:35:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4053559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartfullofelves/pseuds/Alexandria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ianto reads something he shouldn’t have, and he and the team face the consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lost My Family, I Lost My Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s the sequel to Lost and Found, at long last. It’s around 8000 words – five chapters – in total, but I’m still fixing up the fourth chapter. This has taken me ages to write and edit, so I hope you enjoy. Many thanks to [haiironoaki](http://haiironoaki.tumblr.com) for beta-reading, because I really needed it!

**_Cardiff, May 2015_ **

It was up to Ianto and Calandria to go on that day’s second field mission. Jack, Gwen, and Red were on the other side of the city to investigate a suspected alien drug ring when the Rift alert picked up activity, so Ianto had Callie use the computer to check what might’ve fallen through the Rift. Once she’d determined that it looked like an inanimate object, Ianto drove them both to the site in Splott (it was _always_ Splott, he thought) in his own car, since the SUV was being used by the others.

Remembering the close call he’d had a few months ago with a device that had happened to be a bomb, he ordered her to step back while he scanned the alien object. Looking at the results on his scanner, he decided that the object, which appeared to be an electronic book, was safe enough to touch, and picked it up, ready to put it in a Torchwood-issued plastic bag and take it back to the hub. He tapped the front cover of the book by accident, not realising that the slightest touch would activate it, and words formed on the screen, proving the scanner’s suggestion that it was a futuristic book. Then he read the title, and did a double take.

_Mother of Time: The Complete Authorised Biography of Calandria Blanco Diaz._

By this time, Callie was walking up to him. “What is it?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he replied, and held the book up to his chest to hide the title from her. He had no idea why there was a biography from the future about his colleague, but he knew enough about paradoxes and timelines to know that the best plan was to keep it a secret from her.

“Really?” She raised one eyebrow, which he swore she’d learnt from him, as he was her unofficial mentor since she’d moved to Torchwood Cardiff from Auckland, New Zealand.

“Really.” He put the book into the plastic bag, still keeping the cover turned away from her. “It’s just rubbish, actually; we get stuff like this all the time.”

“Ah.” She stopped with the questions, uninterested by space rubbish, as he’d hoped. “Back to the hub then?”

He forced a pleasant smile. “Yep.”

On the drive back to the hub, Callie mentioned that Red was getting the team tickets for the Rugby World Cup 2015, and asked which games Ianto was interested in going to. Trying to put the book out of his mind until they got back to base, Ianto said that he would love to attend the Wales vs Uruguay game at Millennium Stadium on 20th September while Callie and Red went to London to watch New Zealand vs Argentina the same day.

The hub was empty when they returned, the others still on their mission. Ianto took the book with him into the archives, leaving Callie to work on her research upstairs. He sat down in the office chair he kept in the archives for occasions like this, and pulled the electronic book out of its plastic bag. He swiped his finger from right to left to turn the pages, much like a 21st Century e-reader, only this book was made out of some futuristic material that made it transparent and weightless. He turned the pages until he got to the contents. There he scanned the list until his eyes came to rest on a chapter entitled _Relationships._ There were subtitles and page numbers for those subsections, and he couldn’t help reading down the list past names he didn’t know until he reached one he did know, Clea Grey. His eyebrows rose of their own accord, and he froze at the next name, which was Captain Jack Harkness. As much as he was intrigued, he also didn’t want to know any details about his partner and his new friend, so he didn’t turn to that section, and went onto the next name to see if he knew it.

His heart stopped. He did know it, for the name was his own.

Going against all his knowledge of personal timelines, he went to page 456, where the section on _Ianto Jones_ began, and read.

The section wasn’t very long, but it described a close friendship between himself and Calandria, which was all well and good, until he came to the last paragraph.

_Jones’s early death in July 2015 had a deep impact on Calandria, and she fell into depression for the next six months following his death. Although she had finished her first version of the time machine at the time of his death, her depression meant a significant step backwards for her finished product. With medication and the support of her colleagues Harkness, Cooper, and Redmond, she was able to overcome her depression and continue to improve her design and final product._

An iron grip around Ianto’s neck stopped him from being able to breathe. His palms sweated and his heart beat in a strange rhythm. He had to blink away the dots swimming in his vision and force himself to slow his breathing before he fainted.

He almost wished that he hadn’t read it, that he had filed the book away without opening it. _Curiosity killed the cat, indeed,_ he thought, without any humour. Reading something from the future that said you would die in two months was bound to fuck you over.

He took two deep breaths to calm himself. _Okay, Jones,_ he said to himself. _You’ve received some bad news about something that can’t be prevented. Now what are you going to do about it?_

He hunched over his desk and clicked his pen as he thought and came to a decision. He knew just who would be broken by his death, and it wasn’t Callie. His heart sank when he reached the conclusion that the only way to make sure that Jack wasn’t so heartbroken when he died was to distance himself from his partner. He rested his cheek on his fist, hating himself for what he was about to do, but knowing he had little choice. He wanted Jack to remember him, but he didn’t want Jack to break because of him, and if he made sure that the other man wasn’t as in love with him as he was in love with Jack, then surely it would save Jack from heartbreak.

Ianto filed away the book and went back upstairs, where he pretended that everything was fine. He and Jack went home together late that night, as usual, and went to sleep even later, as usual. But in the morning he got up to have a shower when his alarm went off, turning away so he didn’t see the hurt in Jack’s face at being refused morning sex or even just a snuggle.


	2. It's the Sweetest Pain

Jack had arranged a fancy dinner date a couple of weeks earlier, and Ianto suspected the man was planning something special. Ianto claimed that he had to babysit his niece and nephew that night. Jack accepted it, and reflected that maybe buying that ring back in December had been a pointless idea. He’d never before needed to propose to show his love for someone, and the one marriage he’d had in the early 20th Century hadn’t lasted. Besides, Ianto wasn’t a traditional kind of guy, and would probably laugh if Jack even suggested getting married, now he thought about it. That was okay; he could deal with that.

The next day, he pawned the engagement ring.

One night, after Jack had died and Gwen had got badly injured on a mission, the two men went to Ianto’s place for a rough and clinical tumble. Afterwards, Ianto had rolled away from Jack and gone straight to sleep.

When Jack asked him out to the movies, Ianto declined. He didn’t give a reason, just said no.

When Jack tried to embrace Ianto after a weevil hunt gone wrong, Ianto stepped out of Jack’s reach. The next time a weevil needed to be caught, Ianto took Callie. After that, Jack went on his own. He got the message: this was the end of the intimacy they’d built over the past two years. Ianto didn’t want him anymore.

To further drive the point home, Jack’s morning coffee was now always left on his desk for him to find when he got up from his bunker alone.

In the first week of June, after almost a month of being treated as Ianto’s boss and nothing more, Jack wanted to talk to the man himself to demand answers for why Ianto was acting so cold. But when he’d worked out what he wanted to ask and say, knowing that for a conversation with Ianto it was best to have these things planned in advance, Ianto had already left the hub for the night.

Gwen saw the tension between her two friends, the lack of flirting and friendliness, of smiles and small touches when they thought no-one was looking and even when they knew people were. She was reminded of how strained Ianto’s working relationship with Jack had been after Lisa, but couldn’t fathom what the trigger could be.

The day after Jack’s aborted attempt at an interrogation, though she didn’t know it, Gwen enlisted Callie’s help in organising a Torchwood night out. Callie was difficult to talk to these days, so wrapped up in putting the finishing touches on her time machine prototype that she forgot the world around her, but once Gwen had admired the project and then stated her intent, Callie didn’t need any convincing.

The five of them hadn’t had many social occasions recently, and both women loved a good time, but their true motive was getting Jack and Ianto back together, or at least back to talking. Jack was confused and upset, with a dash of supressed anger underneath, Ianto was miserable, and it had been going on for weeks. Enough was enough – it was time to take action. When discussing their options, Callie suggested karaoke because according to her, they were all good singers and Jack was sure to woo Ianto with a love song.

Gwen agreed without hesitation.

On the first Friday of the month, the girls snatched Red from the autopsy room. “Karaoke, Lucky Voice, 8pm,” they informed him.

He brushed off their hands from his obvious biceps. “I don’t even like-”

“Not optional,” said Callie, and he groaned.

“Didn’t you ever want to be a rock star?” asked Gwen.

He shrugged. “Doesn’t everyone? That doesn’t mean I’m going.”

“Oh yes you are.” Callie’s smile was as sweet as the tea she drank. “Because I’ve worked with you for years and I know _everything_ about you. Every. Embarrassing. Detail.” She tilted her head as he squirmed. “And I get quite talkative when I’m drunk, without a good friend to stop me.”

“Have you ever been told you’re good at blackmail?” he asked, glaring up at her.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes, he’s going’,” Gwen said.

Callie high-fived her, acting like the teenager she’d been before she’d had to grow up fast. “I’m glad we’ve got that sorted.”

Red’s subsequent groan was a little more good-natured than Owen’s ever was.

The girls linked arms and walked back upstairs. “Now to getting the boys to come,” said Callie.

Gwen laughed. “Don’t tell them you called them ‘boys’; they’ll hate you forever.”

“Jack does seem like the sort to hold a grudge,” Callie noted.

“And he’s got a long time to hold one for,” Gwen muttered under her breath.

“What?”

“Nothing. Which one should we corner first?”

They decided to split forces, as it would seem like less of a conspiracy that way.

Gwen made hints to Jack about what sort of songs to sing. “Something from this decade, or this century at the very least. And there’s nothing like a good old serenade to win someone over.” She jerked her head in the direction of the coffee machine, where Ianto was standing with Callie.

“Ah, gotcha.” Jack winked at her, and she grinned.

“So be there or be square.” She waltzed out of his office to help Callie, who was having less success with her charge.

Gwen pretended to be busy consulting a file as she rocked up to the coffee machine. “Hey Ianto, what’re you planning on singing tonight?” she asked with a casual air.

Ianto forced his fake smile, the one that conveyed innocence. “Oh, I wasn’t-”

She gave him her best kicked-puppy expression. “You have to come! We’ve booked it and everything. When was the last time you went out for some fun?”

“Well…” He was cracking. He didn’t have a good excuse, and they all knew it.

“Great, we’ll see you there!” Callie clapped him on the shoulder, making him jump, and she and Gwen went back to work.

That evening, dressed for a night out, the five of them gathered around in their karaoke room, the two younger men already searching for the alcohol.

Gwen cleared her throat to get her colleagues’ attention. “Callie and I pulled names out of a hat to pick the order. Singing is not optional, and when everyone has had a go, if you want to you can go again. Alright?”

“Alright!” Jack grinned.

“Alright,” muttered Ianto and Red, lacking their boss’s enthusiasm.

Callie consulted a list on a post-it note. “Ladies and gentleman, our first act is – drum roll, please – Red!”

Red groaned; Jack clapped him on the back and said, “Go for it, show us what you’ve got.”

He picked his song and swaggered up to the microphone, the girls cheering as he did so. He sang a song that was unfamiliar to the original Cardiff team, but Callie seemed to know it, if her cheer when he got to the chorus were any indication. “That’s not how the line goes!” she called at one stage, and he gave her the finger while singing the next line wrong to spite her.

Out the corner of Jack’s eye, he saw Ianto nodding his head in time to the jazzy beat. His apparently-ex-partner had a small smile on his face, the kind that Jack hadn’t seen for weeks now, and that cut him deep. He used to be able to make Ianto smile like that with a joke or a surprise date. When Ianto turned, sensing Jack’s gaze, Jack looked away. He couldn’t bear to be reminded of what they had once had.

“What’s the name of that song?” Gwen asked Red once the song was over.

“It’s called _Wandering Eye_ ,” the man replied. “It’s by a Kiwi band, Fat Freddy’s Drop.”

“Good song,” Ianto contributed. “I liked the beat.”

Callie then announced that Ianto was up next. The Welshman took off his jacket and hung it on a chair, biding his time as he thought about what song he was going to sing. He decided to stick with a classic, and within a couple of minutes was belting out the chorus of Bon Jovi’s _Livin’ on a Prayer_.

“He’s good,” Gwen murmured in Jack’s ear.

All Jack had to say was, “Yeah.” He tried to ignore Ianto’s bare forearms and flushed, sweaty face.

Callie sang _Take Me to Church_ by Hozier, which invoked the empathy of not just herself but also Ianto, Jack, and Red, who had all loved someone of the same sex and therefore felt Hozier’s frustration at other people’s views on that. Her voice became hoarse from the intensity with which she sang halfway through, but she continued and ended the song with the same energy with which she’d begun.

Then it was Jack’s turn. He rocked up to the mic, swinging his hips just like he’d been trained to do in his modelling days on the Boeshane Peninsula, the girls and Red cheering after a few drinks had been consumed. All four of his audience members recognised the intro to a popular but emotional Paloma Faith song, and Gwen called out an encouraging, “Hit it, Jack!”

He smiled at her, and began to sing. His voice was deeper and more masculine than the original singer’s, but evoked the emotion just as much, and Gwen found herself dabbing at her eyes. She’d thought _Only Love Could Hurt Like This_ was sad when Paloma sung it, but when Jack did, it was heartbreaking. A glance at Ianto, whose eyes looked suspiciously red, told her that she was not the only one affected by the heartbreak coming through in Jack’s performance.

By the second chorus, Callie was sniffling now, and even Red was looking up at the ceiling and trying not to cry. Jack’s eyes were boring into Ianto, who was not looking at him.

Jack received a standing ovation at the end, and even Ianto had to admit that it was a fantastic performance. “I had no idea you could sing,” he told the captain, clearing his throat.

Jack forced a smile. “There are lots of things you don’t know about me, Ianto Jones.” There was an unspoken _And I was willing to share some of them, before you started distancing yourself without explanation._

Gwen dedicated her performance to Rhys and sang Shakira’s _Underneath Your Clothes_. She felt a little awkward singing about being “such a good girl honey”, considering her less-than-honest relationship with Rhys when she started working for Torchwood and had an affair with Owen, but she eased into it. Even if she didn’t feel that she deserved Rhys, he _was_ the man she chose, and she considered him her territory, after so many years together, so the song was fitting.

She received a round of slightly drunken applause when she stepped away from the mic. Smiling, she joined her friends and drained her glass. “Is that everyone?” she asked Callie.

The blonde confirmed that everyone had gone once and announced that she wanted another turn.

“Go Callie!” Ianto slurred. While Gwen had sung, he’d had a couple of tequila shots to dull the pain that Jack’s performance had caused, and was now rosy-cheeked. If he were going to die next month, this could be his last chance to have a good night, and spending it loathing himself for hurting Jack was not the way he wanted to remember it.

Callie smiled at him. _Don’t hate me too much for what I’m about to sing_ , she hoped as she sang the first line of _If You Love Someone_ by The Veronicas. The song was about telling the person you love that you love them, even if you’re scared to say it. Jack chanced a look at Ianto, but Ianto was already looking at him, and they both glanced away, knowing what the other was thinking.

After Callie finished her song, Red admonished her for singing a song by an Australian girl band. With a roll of her eyes that even Ianto couldn’t equal, she took her too patriotic friend’s drink from him and spilt it on his shirt. “Oops,” she smiled, then went up to Ianto and whispered in his ear. She giggled as he groaned, and she clapped his back in good nature before he returned to the mic, holding his arms out for balance.

Jack had been getting Red a replacement drink, but his head jolted up when a tune he vaguely recognised from the 90s started to play. His ex-lover began to sing, and Jack raised one eyebrow at the song choice. _Alanis Morissette – nice._ He raised the other one when Ianto winked at Callie, blew a kiss at Gwen, and grinned at Red. He’d never seen the Welshman so intoxicated.

_Speaking of drunk…_ There was no-one more willing to talk than a drunk. When Ianto staggered away from the mic to join the group again, Jack grabbed his arm and hauled him towards the exit. Ianto resisted, but he couldn’t equal Jack’s strength when alcohol was running through his veins and affecting his coordination.

Outside the karaoke bar, Jack gripped Ianto’s shoulders and pushed him hard against the wall, enough to scare but not to hurt him. “Okay, tell me what’s up with you,” Jack demanded. “Why now? What have I done or not done for you to push me away?”

“Wha…?” Ianto blinked.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about,” Jack hissed, fingers digging deeper into Ianto’s skin.

The young man said nothing, gazing at Jack with a blankness seen only in the inebriated and the amnesiac.

“I thought we were happy,” insisted Jack. “Six months ago, I told you I loved you. You said the same. What’s happened since then to change everything between us?”

Ianto sighed. “It’s complicated.”

Jack scoffed. “You’re talking to the most complicated man in the universe, Ianto Jones.” Usually when he used Ianto’s full name it was said with fondness. He wasn’t feeling any of that now. “Are you fucking somebody else, is that it?” He hated the idea, since they’d both promised monogamy when they’d decided to call each other “partner”, but it couldn’t be ignored. Ianto could have anyone he wanted, anyone- “Don’t tell me it’s Callie.”

Ianto rolled his eyes. Even when drunk, he could manage that. Or maybe this conversation was sobering him up. “I’m not sleeping with Callie. She’s not interested in men.”

“Neither were you, before you met me.”

Ianto glared _._

_Okay, so not Callie. Gwen?_ That was too ridiculous a thought to entertain, even if the image called to mind was- “It’s Red, isn’t it?” Jack’s heart sank even as he asked the question. “He’s good at inviting people to played Naked Twister,” he spat.

“No!” Ianto removed Jack’s hands from his shoulders, where they’d been digging deeper and deeper as Jack grew angrier and angrier. “I am not sleeping with anyone! For fuck’s sake, Jack, leave me alone!”

Jack took a step back. “So you want space. Fine, I can do that.”

Ianto nodded, eager for any excuse. This one seemed as good as any.

“You could’ve just said.” The crease in Jack’s brow aged him by fifteen years.

“I’m sorry,” Ianto mumbled, biting his lip.

Jack ignored the tears welling up in the young man’s alcohol-hazed eyes, and stormed away without a farewell, his coat swishing behind him.

Ianto swore at himself. He’d just made things with Jack even worse. Instead of singing _Head Over Feet_ , he should’ve chosen _Ironic._

He went back inside to join his friends. The only way to stop hating himself tonight was to drink himself into oblivion, and he wasn’t far off. Gwen, Callie, and Red drank just as much as him, and didn’t question why he was drowning himself in alcohol. He was part of the team and wanted a good time, same as them.

Ianto stumbled into his flat a few hours later. He headed straight for the bathroom, where he spewed his guts into the toilet and passed out on the cold, tiled floor.

The last months of his life were not going the way he’d planned. But how the fuck could he explain to Jack why he’d done what he’d done?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Red sings [Wandering Eye](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JtyCtksvSOg) by Fat Freddy’s Drop. 
> 
> Ianto sings [Livin' on a Prayer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lDK9QqIzhwk) by Bon Jovi and [Head Over Feet](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4iuO49jbovg) by Alanis Morissette. 
> 
> Callie sings [Take Me to Church](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MYSVMgRr6pw) by Hozier and [If You Love Someone](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mc5V51_kpw4) by The Veronicas. 
> 
> Jack sings [Only Love Can Hurt Like This](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PaKr9gWqwl4) by Paloma Faith.
> 
> Gwen sings [Underneath Your Clothes](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uwBwKcQ1k84) by Shakira.


	3. The Blackest Nights

**_July 2015_ **

Callie was late to work following a date the night before with, to Ianto’s absolute shock, his old friend Cate Wilson. She’d just finished her first time machine prototype and decided to treat herself, delaying a team celebration because Jack and Ianto weren’t speaking to each other and would ruin the mood. Judging from her time of arrival that morning, the night had been successful.

Jack paused his team briefing on the day’s crisis as she walked through the cog wheel door. “You’re late!”

“For a good reason!” she called back, walking over to join them at Gwen’s workstation.

“Oh, and what would that be? Alien invasion in your bathroom?” He raised one eyebrow, a habit he’d picked up from spending too much time around Ianto. _Damn!_

“Sex,” she declared. “I thought you’d approve. Now, what’ve I missed?” she asked, switching into professional mode.

“I thought that was only the first date,” Red muttered under his breath, and Jack shot him a look which shut him up.

“Now you’ve graced us with your presence, may I continue?” asked the captain.

Callie rolled her eyes, a habit that _she_ had picked up from spending too much time around Ianto. “Shoot,” she gave Jack the go-ahead.

“Thank you, Miss Blanco Diaz.” He pointed at Gwen’s screen, which showed a map of Cardiff with three red dots that would form an upside-down triangle if lines were drawn to connect them. “While you were sleeping in your beds last night – or not sleeping, as the case may be-” he looked pointedly at the latecomer- “there was Rift activity in three different locations over the city. Gwen was the first to discover it. Gwen?” He gestured for her to take over.

She was sitting down in her office chair, ankles crossed. “I came in early because I left at 4 yesterday for a dental check-up and spent the rest of the evening trying to forget about the horrible X-ray,” she explained, addressing them all. She’d also had – and still did have – the most awful period cramps, combined with a headache, but she didn’t mention that. “When I got in, I saw there’d been activity at around 11:40, 2:25, and 5:55. I don’t know why you didn’t pick up on it during the night, Jack,” she added with a frown.

He didn’t answer that he’d spent most of the night at the shooting range, directing his anger at Ianto at the targets, and therefore been unaware of any alerts.

“Anyway, I can’t tell what came through the Rift, if anything, or if the events are even related. There have been no reports of strange creatures running around this morning, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have alien lifeforms to track down. We need to search these three locations as soon as possible and check if anything did come through the Rift.”

Jack nodded. “I’ll take the SUV and check out Tremorfa. Gwen, Red, you can search the Bay.” She thanked her lucky stars that she wouldn’t have to go far, as standing up and walking a long way did not sound fun right now. “Ianto, take your car – and Callie – to Riverside. Stay on comms at all times, and call for backup if you need it,” he ordered.

That was all the instruction the team needed. Grimacing as she stood up, Gwen took her gun, phone, scanner, and comm-link, and waited for Red to get his stuff together before they walked out of the hub. Ianto and Callie grabbed the same equipment and headed to the carpark. Jack was two steps ahead of them all, as usual, and had driven off in the SUV before Ianto had even unlocked his car.

When Callie asked if she could drive, Ianto explained that he knew the way and that it was, in fact, his car. He gave her a bland smile as he let her down, which she picked up on.

“What’s wrong?” she demanded, sliding into the passenger seat.

He clicked his seatbelt and put his key in the ignition, going through the motions to avoid answering the question.

“Come on,” she persisted when he hadn’t spoken in thirty seconds and they had rolled out of the carpark. “What’s bothering you?”

“I don’t know,” he sighed, shifting gears as they hit a main road. What could he say – _I have the feeling I’m going to die today?_ She’d tell him to stop being ridiculous. He settled for: “I feel a bit off colour.”

She put a hand to his forehead. “You don’t have a temperature. Let me know if you get worse, eh?”

He agreed, but knew he wouldn’t tell her. If he died today, so be it. _Mother of Time: The Complete Authorised Biography of Calandria Blanco Diaz_ had given him the month of his death, and if that were fixed, there was nothing he could do about it.

They drove northwest for about ten minutes, Ianto not behaving as usual around his blonde friend, which was to be talkative and almost flirtatious. However, she didn’t ask questions, respecting that he didn’t feel like talking, so the drive to Despenser Gardens in Riverside was made in silence.

They made it there just as Gwen reported over the comms that, after an initial examination of the area, she and Red had found nothing in the Bay and had no reason to believe anything had come through the Rift there or been taken away. In other words, they thought the activity in that location at 11:40 the previous night was the Rift messing with them. Since very little was known about the Rift, Jack agreed that it was an acceptable conclusion and told Gwen and Red to return to the hub but be on standby in case either he or Ianto and Callie needed them as backup. Gwen was relieved to sit down, and hoped she wouldn’t have to stand up again any time soon.

Ianto and Callie got out of the car and searched the park for signs that anything had come through the Rift. They’d been looking for five minutes when a skinny teenage boy darted from around a tree and fired red light at them. With a shout, Ianto grabbed Callie’s hand and sprinted away from the boy, zigzagging across the grass.

Callie used her free hand to activate her comm-link as they ran. “Jack!” she shouted. “We’re being shot at by a kid with a blaster that belongs in _Star Wars_! No cover so we’ll head back to Ianto’s car?” That question was directed more at Ianto, but it was their boss who answered.

“Be careful!” Jack shouted back over the comms. “Disarm him if possible without compromising your safety. If that’s not possible, do not engage! Clear?”

“Clear!” Callie and Ianto replied in unison.

Hearts pumping fast and adrenaline flooding their veins, they ran for the fence. It was too high to get over quickly, so they made for the gate instead, the boy still firing the laser gun at them. The gate clanged shut behind them as their feet pounded on the pavement. They were about to cross the street to get to Ianto’s car when Callie tripped on the kerb and stumbled into Ianto.

“Fuck! My ankle!” she yelled, grabbing onto him even as they slowed down and started to cross the road.

He wrapped an arm around her waist to support her. “You okay?”

“I think so,” she puffed, gritting her teeth.

Distracted by Callie’s injury, they didn’t hear the manic laughter behind them or see the red particle blast that followed. Callie spun around with her gun and shot the boy in the foot. He howled in pain, but her attention was on her friend.

“Ianto,” she gasped as he slumped to his knees. There was a singe mark in the back of his dress shirt, to the left of his spine. “Ianto!”

She knelt in front of him, just in time to exchange looks of agony before the light faded from his eyes and he collapsed forwards, into her arms.

She lifted one arm to tap her comm-link. “Jack.” Her voice shook. “The boy shot Ianto.”

“What?” Jack snapped.

She tried to inhale, but choked on her breath. “Ianto’s dead, Jack.”

She wasn’t speaking on a private channel, and could be heard back at the hub. Red whispered, “Fuck,” while Gwen gasped. “No, not Ianto,” she moaned, and a sob escaped her.

“Don’t move!” came the captain’s command. The slam of a door and the starting up of a car engine were clear over the comms. “I’m on my way.”

Jack’s journey should’ve taken fifteen minutes. He arrived within seven, throwing open the SUV door and not bothering to slam it shut behind him.

“Jack!” Callie called, but he didn’t hear her.

His eyes snapped to the teenager crying and cradling his foot, then to the laser gun lying on the ground. His heartbeat in his ears was his own personal soundtrack as his legs walked him over to the young boy. His footsteps sounded like drumbeats, and his coat billowed behind him. He leant down, grabbed the gun, took less than a second to aim, and put the boy out of his misery. Jack felt nothing.

“Jack!”

His head whipped around and his gaze shot to the middle of the street, where a woman was cradling a body and weeping. _Callie_. He flew over to her and took Ianto into his own arms. Lifeless blue eyes stared up at him.

He didn’t weep, but there was an indescribable pain inside of him, and he believed, for a second, that his heart had actually shattered in his chest. He’d lost one more in the line of duty, but more than that, it was _Ianto_ , the latest in a long line of people who had stolen his heart. The latest in a long line of people who had _broken_ his heart.

He didn’t move from his kneeling position in the middle of Despenser Street, frozen in time.

He didn’t notice the arrival of another car.

He didn’t register Gwen’s hand on his shoulder.

He didn’t hear Callie’s sobs.

He didn’t see Red deal with the body of the teenage boy.

All he could do was try and process one simple fact: Ianto was dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *ducks* There's still another chapter and an epilogue to come - do you trust me?


	4. Live for the Fight

Red took the initiative and removed the teenager’s body from the scene to take back to the hub, while Callie gripped Jack’s bicep and Gwen wrapped her arm around him as he stared down at Ianto’s body in his lap.

After a long period in which no-one said anything, Callie’s sobs abated, and she spoke, breaking the silence. “I can save him.”

“What?” Jack lifted his stricken face to look at her. He looked like he’d aged ten mortal years in ten minutes, lines around his eyes and his lips downturned.

Letting go of his arm, she stood up. “I can go back and save him,” she replied with conviction.

“Callie, no,” Gwen murmured, releasing Jack to clasp Callie’s shoulder.

“No, you don’t understand. I can go back in time and make sure he doesn’t get shot!”

Jack swallowed, unsmiling. “I can’t let you do that, Callie,” he said with more than a tinge of regret. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I _have_ to,” she argued, getting to her feet. “I have to at least try.”

He shook his head. “You’ve made the Earth’s first time machine. It’s basic, primitive, and unreliable,” he countered. He didn’t add _commendable_.

“I have to test it sometime! Jack, I’m doing this whether you approve or not.” Her eyes shone with determination and her body was tense.

Gwen looked from Jack to Callie as the two fought, not saying a word. Jack slid himself out from under Ianto’s body, allowing Gwen to take over the vigil, and he stood in front of Calandria, grabbing her arms.

Gwen closed Ianto’s eyes and straightened his tie in a show of respect; now it was her turn to stare down at the body of her friend and colleague. _Another one bites the dust_ , she thought, and a horrified, hysterical giggle escaped her before she could stop it _._

She bowed her head. She’d now lost three friends because of Torchwood, and it hurt just as much every time. It must have been a thousand times worse for Jack, who would go on watching everyone die forever, and she wondered how the hell he coped with it. She suspected he didn’t.

“You can’t change the past,” he was saying. “You’ll cause a paradox, you know that. It’s. Too. Dangerous,” he repeated himself, spitting out each word.

Callie wrenched herself free from his grip, and took something from the back of her waistband. Jack’s eyes widened in surprise when she aimed her gun at him. “I’m going to save him.”

Jack took a step backwards, realising that Callie had backed him into a corner. He couldn’t let her shoot him and see him come back to life, but he couldn’t shoot her first, even if he wanted to, because he knew from his 51st Century schoolbooks that she had to live to refine her time machine. He had to let her do this.

“Okay.” He unclenched his fists, and his shoulders slumped in resignation. “I’m going with you.”

Gwen began to protest, knowing how dangerous this was, but Jack’s word was final. He looked at her and made a feeble gesture towards Ianto’s body, whose hand she was clutching in the middle of the street. She let go of his hand before she broke it, and looked up at Jack’s stony face.

She swallowed. “Give me a hand?” she asked with the volume of a nervous child.

Since Red had taken away the teenager’s body in the SUV, Jack pointed to Gwen’s car and together they carried Ianto’s body and laid him in the backseat. Jack slid in after him and took his ex-lover’s body in his arms.

Callie was already buckled into the passenger seat by the time Gwen opened the driver’s door and sat down. She sped to the hub, glancing in the rear vision mirror every now and then to check on Jack, who was stroking Ianto’s hair with closed eyes. Her heart broke for him – he hadn’t even shown any signs of grief, only of disbelief that Ianto was dead.

Ianto’s car, parked ten metres down the road, was left abandoned.

Callie called ahead and asked Red to get a stretcher ready for them. Once they arrived at the hub, they carried Ianto’s body on the stretcher down to the autopsy room. Red halted his ministrations on the teenager’s body to examine the new arrival, getting on with his work in subdued silence.

Jack, Callie, and Gwen ran to the time machine. Callie had enlisted Ianto’s help on the exterior design of the machine, and he’d mentioned the wardrobe that led to Narnia. Brown and wooden, the box wasn’t elegant, but then, the exterior’s only function was to hold the mechanics inside and provide a place for the time-traveller to stand.

The machine would have to be transported back to Despenser Gardens so that they could go back to the moment the psychopathic teenager fired the laser gun and stop Ianto from being caught in its blast. Jack and Gwen helped Callie carry the large box out of the hub and to the SUV in the carpark. When they put it down, they realised the dilemma: the machine wouldn’t fit in the boot.

“Doesn’t your husband own a trucking company?” asked Callie, thinking fast on her feet.

Gwen blinked before she caught on. “Yes, maybe he can help us.” She got out her phone and dialled Rhys’s number. She walked a few metres away so she could at least pretend to have privacy while she asked her husband for help. After a few minutes, she joined the others and announced that Rhys was on his way in one of the Harwood’s lorries.

When Rhys arrived, they lifted the time machine up into the back of the lorry and secured it with rope. That done, Gwen jumped in the front with her husband while Jack and Callie made themselves comfortable in the back.

As soon as they arrived at Despenser Gardens, they unloaded the machine and hauled it across the road to the pavement in order to set it up. Once Callie was satisfied, Jack stepped inside without any dramatic exit. Callie was about to join him when she paused and turned to Gwen.

“If we don’t return, either because we were successful or because we died, it was nice working with you.”

Gwen forced an optimistic smile. “I’m sure it will turn out fine.” She wasn’t at all sure, but she hoped it would. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.” With that, Callie pulled the door to a close behind her, and Gwen and Rhys watched as absolutely nothing happened.

Inside the machine, Callie, cramped beside Jack, pressed a switch. Jack crossed his fingers that this would work, because although he knew Callie would live to invent a working time machine, he didn’t know if this one would be it. Given that this was her first attempt, he suspected it wouldn’t be. And his advanced knowledge of time travel meant that he had more than a fair idea of what would happen if it didn’t work.

Electricity passed through mirrors and made the time-travellers’ hair crackle. The machine shuddered and beeped. Jack and Callie clasped hands and exchanged expressions of simultaneous hope and anxiety as they waited for the science to work.

The machine stopped. They released each other’s hand, and Callie reached forwards and pushed the door open enough to see where – or rather, _when_ – they were.

Ianto and Callie were running out of the park gate with the boy with the laser gun on their heels.

Ignoring the nausea that the trip had caused, Jack pushed past his travelling companion and ran up behind the younger versions of Ianto and Callie just as they were about to cross the road, tackling Ianto to the ground before the teenager took his winning shot. Jack wasn’t sure what his Callie was doing right at this moment, but the blasts seemed to have stopped, and he was lying on top of Ianto in the middle of Despenser Street.

Jack’s move had knocked over the younger Callie, who yelled, “Fuck! My ankle!”

She hurried to get back on her feet and, wondering what on Earth had just happened, turned around to get a look. As soon as she saw her older self, she dematerialised, as if she’d never been there in the first place.

Jack flinched, Ianto stared, unable to move under Jack’s weight, and Callie, who was sedating the teenager, said, “Wow.”

Jack realised that his younger self in Tremorfa must’ve disappeared at the same time, but then he spotted the SUV parked several cars down from Ianto’s car and remembered Callie’s last words to Gwen about not returning – they were successful. He could have laughed in relief. Instead, he stood and extended a hand to help Ianto onto his feet.

Ianto brushed off Jack’s touch and got up by himself. “What,” he addressed both Callie and Jack, “the fuck is going on?”

Jack looked Ianto in the eye. “You were meant to die just now,” he explained, and Ianto nodded, as if he agreed. _Strange_ , thought Jack. “I saved your _life_.”

Ianto’s gaze shifted from Jack to Callie to the time machine before replying. “Shouldn’t that create a paradox, changing the past?” he asked with a frown.

“No,” answered Jack. “I worried it would, but-” he nodded at Callie, giving her permission to continue.

She confiscated the blaster and handcuffed their young offender before explaining. “We’ve created a new timeline. Where we come from, you’re dead and me and Jack have disappeared. We can’t return to our own time.”

Ianto froze. “You created a divergent timeline to save my life?” he checked.

The smile Jack gave him was not his usual blinding grin, but a sad one. “That’s right.”

Callie stood up from where she’d been attending to the teenager, and came to stand with the men. She drew Ianto into a tight hug to convince herself that he was alive, and he relaxed in her comforting embrace. Jack wished to do the same, but given the recent tension between them, refrained.

“I couldn’t let you go,” she said, “and it was the perfect excuse to test out the time machine. Jack tried to talk me out of it, but I convinced him to let me in the end.” She grinned, showing her teeth.

“The odds of it working were 50/50.” Jack glared at her. “Is it any wonder I didn’t want you to risk it?”

“Hey, it did work! And now I know what adjustments need to be made,” she scowled, putting her hands on her hips.

“True, but there’s no need to be so proud of yourself. A little modesty doesn’t hurt,” he retorted.

Ianto rolled his eyes.

“Hey, I saw that!”

“Modesty, sir? Do you even know what it means?”

Jack could have rolled his eyes himself. Instead, he shrugged and gave his famous Harkness grin. Ianto was alive, calling him “sir” and appearing to be thankful to him and Callie for saving him. He had to stop himself from throwing his arms around the young man in a bone-crushing embrace and never letting go.

When Callie threw the teenager into the backseat of the SUV, Ianto asked how the Torchwood vehicle had got there. “Different timeline,” explained Callie, and drove off.

Jack made a call to Gwen, who made a call to Rhys, who soon turned up in a lorry. Jack and Ianto lifted the time machine inside and Jack gave Rhys directions to the Torchwood carpark, telling him that they would be right behind him.

Ianto made Jack sit in the passenger seat of his car, calling the captain’s bullshit about Ianto not needing to drive after his near-death experience. They drove in awkward silence back to the hub, both thinking about what to say but not voicing their thoughts.

When they got back to base and the time machine was back where Callie needed it, Jack ordered Red to question their prisoner about the blaster, as he couldn’t trust himself, remembering the coldness with which he had shot the boy in the original timeline.

Gwen kept rubbing her lower abdomen and was walking funny. Jack wasn’t sure what was wrong, but she looked like she was in pain, so he sent her out to go home with Rhys. She shot him a brief smile to communicate her thanks as she snatched her bag and walked out of the hub with a grimace each time she moved one leg in front of the other.

Jack ordered Callie to supervise the interrogation of the teenager, but didn’t allow her to question him, as he worried that she would get too hot-headed. She went with Red while Jack retreated to his office.

Ianto, standing in the middle of the hub, twiddled his thumbs for a few minutes before going up to join his captain. Jack looked up and raised his eyebrows in surprise, but let Ianto speak first.

Ianto held Jack’s unwavering gaze as he crossed the room and perched on the desk. “Thank you for saving my life today.”

“Any time.” A smile crossed Jack’s face, but his eyes remained sad.

“And I’m also sorry about the last two months.”

Jack frowned, and made a gesture for Ianto to explain.

Ianto looked down at the floor then. “You were so affected by the deaths of Tosh and Owen I thought that if you hated me, when I died you wouldn’t be so hurt.”

Jack stared. “It didn’t work,” he replied. “I was so hurt by your death that I went back in time to save your life.”

A strangled laugh made its way up Ianto’s throat. “I know. It was a stupid idea, now I think about it.”

“It was,” Jack agreed with a sad laugh, “but it was done for the right reasons.” Sensing Jack’s intense gaze, Ianto looked up and caught Jack’s unsaid _like your other mistakes were._ “I could never hate you, Ianto Jones.”

Ianto shook his head at his own stupidity. “My feelings haven’t changed, Jack; it was all pretend – a farce. You didn’t do anything wrong; I was trying to protect you.” He seemed to deflate then, blowing air out through his mouth. “I’m sorry for being an arsehole.”

The puzzle pieces fitted into place in Jack’s mind. Despite his hurt and confusion, Ianto had been trying to protect him. Jack’s hand inched closer to Ianto’s, which was palm-down on the desk. “I forgive you. I’ll always forgive you, Ianto.” _Just like you’ve always forgiven me._ His pinkie nudged Ianto’s.

Ianto’s little finger nudged back, and he cleared his throat. “Even though I’ve been an arsehole?”

Jack stood, and pulled Ianto up off the desk so their bodies were pressed flush together. He cupped Ianto’s cheek with one hand while using his other arm to hold the young man close.

“Even though you’re an idiot,” he agreed with a smirk, and kissed Ianto for the first time in two arduous months.

Ianto’s hand moved to cup the back of Jack’s neck as he poured love and gratitude into the deep, passionate, and long-due kiss. When they pulled away, Jack’s pupils were blown and so were Ianto’s.

“I’m sorry,” Ianto repeated, the words coming out as little more than a murmur.

“Show me how sorry you are,” Jack growled.

Ianto grabbed him by the belt buckle and led him down to the captain’s bunker.


	5. Epilogue: The Man I Chose

Down in the Torchwood archives, Ianto opened the book to page 456 once again. As they’d lain in the afterglow on the tiny mattress, he’d told Jack about Calandria’s biography and been ordered to show him, throwing his shirt, pants, and trousers back on as they descended into the bowels of Torchwood Three.

“What does it say?” Jack asked, putting a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. He looked at the book with soft eyes and a smile.

Ianto cleared his throat and read. “ _Jones’s early death in July 2015 was predestined to give Calandria a motive_ ,” he paused to let this sink in, not moving or looking up from the page but rereading that statement to make sure he’d comprehended it the first time,“ _to test her time machine prototype. She successfully went into the past to save his life, thus creating a divergent timeline. This meant a significant step forwards for her finished machine, as she was able to keep making adjustments until she had perfected the model. She and Jones remained close friends for the next several years._ ” He heaved a sigh of relief.

“That was dangerous, reading about your future,” Jack remarked.

Ianto closed his eyes. “I know,” he admitted, then turned to look at Jack. “I won’t be doing it again. But Jack, if you found a book from the future with your name in it, wouldn’t you want to see what it says about you?”

Jack took a minute to reply. “No. I think that would be too dangerous for someone who’s going to live forever.”

Ianto flinched.

“But I would definitely be curious,” Jack allowed. “Now,” he said, tapping the book, “let’s make sure no-one else reads about their future.”

He took the book from Ianto, and they made their way back upstairs to the main hub and into Jack’s office. They opened his safe and locked the book inside.

As he retrieved and knotted his tie, Ianto wondered if Jack had known something about Callie’s future before Ianto had even told him about the biography. It would explain the strange fondness with which he had gazed at the book, as well as his eagerness to lock it away from prying eyes, and his willingness to always provide Calandria with whatever resources she needed. Maybe someday Ianto would question him about it, but not today. Today had been eventful enough.

“Done.” Jack’s grin was genuine, and he turned to Ianto and put his arms around his waist. “No more casualties to curiosity.”

Ianto smiled, and tilted his head for a kiss. It was the first day of the rest of his life, and he was spending it with Jack.


End file.
